


Somebody To Love

by neversaydie



Series: God Only Knows [1]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Multi, Muteness, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm telling you man, he's weird." Shane shakes his head.</p><p>"He's not that weird." </p><p>It's a lie. Daryl Dixon is weird. Everyone on campus knows it, and everyone whispers about it. Supposedly he grew up in the backwoods of Georgia. Supposedly his brother is in jail for first degree murder. Supposedly he hasn't spoken to anyone except his project supervisor all semester.</p><p>Rick's not sure how many of those things are true. All he knows is, he can't stop thinking about Daryl Dixon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody To Love

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series.
> 
> For Pasha.

"I'm telling you man, he's weird." Shane shakes his head. "I mean, I know you got a thing for artsy types, but seriously."

"He's not that weird." But the protest sounds weak even to Rick's own ears.

It's a lie. Daryl Dixon is weird. Everyone on campus knows it, and everyone whispers about it. Supposedly he grew up in the backwoods of Georgia, part of a redneck clan until he came out of the closet and got banished from the family. Supposedly his brother is in jail for first degree murder after he set a meth dealer on fire. Supposedly he hasn't spoken to anyone except his project supervisor all semester.

Rick's not sure how many of those things are true. All he knows is, he can't stop thinking about Daryl Dixon.

"He ain't gonna talk to you." Shane's still shaking his head. "No way. Lori reckons he's a mute."

"He ain't a mute." Rick hopes not, anyway. "I'm gonna try anyway."

"Alright, you wanna waste your damn time." Shane throws his hands up. "I got football practice, sorry I can't say to watch you crash 'n burn."

"Fuck you, man." Shoving him, Rick waves him off with a middle-finger salute before he turns back to the mission at hand.

Talking to Daryl Dixon. Sure. He can do that.

The man in question is sitting under one of the big oak trees that line the walkways of the quad. It's autumn, so he must be sitting in a pile of dead leaves, but he doesn't seem to care as he's bent over one of the notebooks he always carries around. He's an art student of some kind, so Rick supposes he must be drawing. He's usually around this area, sitting by one of the trees and studiously ignoring everyone. Maybe he'll studiously ignore Rick, too.

Rick's palms are sweating as he walks over. He realises he doesn't have a plan right as he opens his mouth.

Shit.

"Uh, hi."

Daryl just about jumps out of his skin and slams his notebook shut, snapping his eyes up to Rick in surprise. Rick curses himself.

"Shit, sorry. Ain't mean to startle you." Oh, this is bad. The guy's looking at him like he's an alien. "Uh, I just wanted to come over and say hi. I'm Rick."

There's a long silence. Rick decides to cut his losses and leave, Shane was right.

"Daryl." The word stops him in his tracks. The guy's voice is rough, like he doesn't use it very often, and quiet. And Rick's just about finished from then on, because it's also one of the nicest sounds he's ever heard.

"Hey Daryl, nice t'meet you." He sounds like a fucking schoolteacher, but the other man smiles a little bit even as Rick cringes at his own dorkiness. "Mind if I sit? Or are you working?" He indicates the book.

"Nah." Daryl shakes his head, quickly shoving the notebook in his bag like it's personally offended him. "Go 'head."

Sitting down on the dead leaves that crunch under his weight, Rick can't believe this is really happening. Daryl Dixon not only talks, but he's talking to Rick. _Voluntarily_. Without telling him to fuck off. His heart is doing backflips, and Rick tells himself sternly to get a grip and not fuck this up.

"Uh, I don't really know what I'm doin'. I just thought you seemed like a person to say hi to." He decides to be upfront, and is slightly amazed when Daryl nods. Is he being encouraging? Jesus Christ. "I've heard a lot about you, but I figure most of it's bullshit."

"Heard the one 'bout how I'm straight outta _Deliverance_?" He's got a drawl, definitely from the South, then. "S'my favourite."

Rick laughs, and Daryl twitches a slow smile. He's not very expressive, but then Rick wasn't expecting him to be. He's better looking up close though, all angles and wispy hair framing his face. He's got a weirdly feminine quality beneath the gruffness, even has a beauty mark.

Oh, Rick's gone. Rick's so, so gone.

"Yeah, I heard that one." He smirks. "Heard you're from Georgia?"

Daryl nods.

"'Bout you?"

"Atlanta." Rick answers, and Daryl looks surprised that they're from the same state. But then, Rick figures he's from the country with the way he talks, and he doesn't have much of an accent himself. "What're you doin' here?"

"Art." Daryl shrugs, looking down like he's ashamed of it. "You?"

"Politics." That makes the other man snort, and Rick can't help but find the sarcasm endearing. "Might go into law enforcement."

"Figures. Y'look pretty clean-cut." He's twisting his fingers together like he's nervous, and Rick thinks it's one of the sweetest things he's ever seen a grown man do.

"I, um, I got class. Y'wanna maybe, uh…" he's practically stuttering, so Rick makes it easy on them both.

"Meet you here tomorrow?"

Daryl nods, crooked smile making his eyes light up. Rick thinks he's gorgeous.

They're both so, so gone.

 

*

"He talked to you?" Glenn's eyes are bugged fit to burst out of his head, and Rick doesn't see what the big deal is.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "So? I mean, I know he ain't got many friends, but that don't mean anything. He's kinda shy."

He's leaning his elbows on the counter, waiting on the pizza he'd ordered from his friend at least twenty minutes ago. The service is usually fast here, but he figures Glenn being too busy freaking out about Rick's love life might have something to do with the delay.

"You don't understand." Glenn leans closer. "He doesn't talk."

"People just say that." Rick rolls his eyes, but Glenn's already shaking his head vehemently. Rick doesn't understand why his friend is so adamant about believing a rumour.

"No, Rick. He _doesn't talk_." He lowers his voice even further, even though there's no one else in the pizza place but a few high schoolers at the back table.

"Y'know I had Dr Greene supervising my project? …I'm _really_ not supposed to tell you this."

Rick just waits. For a psychology student, Glenn's extremely easy to manipulate. If you stay quiet for long enough, he'll just keep talking. The technique pays off, as Glenn glances around and continues, conspiratorially.

"Okay, so. I'm writing about abnormal psychological responses to trauma." Rick nods wearily, he's heard this all before. "So I went to Dr Greene to see if he could give me some ideas of where to look for sources and stuff, because he runs the counselling service. He gave me a few books, and he said he was treating a student with selective mutism who might be willing to be interviewed."

"That doesn't mean he's talking about-" but Glenn cuts him off.

"I did an email interview, Rick. It's him." He insists. Rick frowns, reeling slightly from this information.

"So what does that mean? Selective mutism?"

"He doesn't talk, except to a few people. He can't." Glenn explains, sounding eager to show off his knowledge. "Dr Greene said they had sessions for a month before he said a word. He straight up spoke to you? What does he sound like?"

"Uh, quiet." Rick feels a little uneasy at his friend's enthusiasm. Daryl isn't a lab rat. "He didn't say much."

"Wow. I can't believe he talked to you." Glenn's practically wringing his hands in excitement. He loves his stupid subject so much it's weird, sometimes. "He's only talked to about five people in his whole life, y'know. He uses sign language mostly. I wonder if-"

"Glenn." Rick cuts him off, more sharply than he means to. "Way to pile on the pressure, man."

"Sorry." He has the good grace to look sheepish. "It's just exciting, that's all. Do you think I could meet him, maybe?"

"Isn't that unethical?" They might have only gone out a few times, but Rick's not sure Daryl could handle being subjected to Glenn's 'clinical gaze' for too long.

"Meeting my friend's boyfriend is totally ethical."

"He's not my boyfriend." Rick protests reflexively. Glenn just laughs and finally goes off to make his damn pizza. "He's not."

"Whatever you say, man."

 

*

 _He's not my boyfriend_.

Daryl blows his fringe out of his face and scowls at Carol as she laughs. She signs back rapidly, before he can protest further.

_Sure. How many dates have you been on? Four or five? Have you kissed him yet?_

_Fuck no_.

Daryl shakes his head vigorously. Carol just arches an eyebrow. She's definitely the only person he's ever met who can drink a cup of coffee sarcastically.

_Are you nervous?_

_Of course I'm nervous._ Duh. _He's really nice._

There isn't an adequate sign to describe Rick, how he makes Daryl feel. He's a little embarrassed that they talk about him so much that he's already got his own namesign between them. He's definitely the most important R in Daryl's life.

 _Just go for it. He obviously likes you_.

 _But he doesn't know about-_ Daryl gestures to his throat, blushing fiercely.

Carol was one of the few people on campus he'd made friends with over the last year. She was a mature student, coming back into education after getting out of an abusive marriage. Her daughter was deaf, and she'd thought Daryl was too when she'd seen him trying to order a cup of coffee with his hands in the campus café. It was his second day at college, he was fucking terrified of everything, and he'd been shamefully close to tears when he couldn't make himself understood for something so simple.

A gentle touch to his elbow, and he'd been faced with a sweet-faced, grey-haired woman signing back at him. Carol had interpreted his order for him, and then sat with him for two hours as he tried really hard not to cry and explained the situation. It was the longest conversation he'd had since his brother had been put in jail two years earlier.

 _So tell him_. Carol waved her hand dismissively. _I know you're worried honey, but it's really not a big deal_.

This time it's Daryl who rolls his eyes.

 _Okay._ She acquiesces. _So maybe it is a big deal. But it's nothing to be ashamed of. And you talk to him, right?_

 _Yeah._ Daryl nods.

_So just tell him, he's not going to like you less._

Daryl doesn't sign anything back, just drops his eyes and chews at his thumbnail anxiously. Carol sighs.

"It's gonna be okay, honey." She forgets that he can hear her, sometimes, because she's used to Sophia, but she talks to him when he won't look at her.

"Yeah." He whispers, and Carol smiles.

 

*

In the end, Daryl gives him a letter. 

 _Hey Rick_ ,

It starts, blocky capital letters instead of his usual scrawl, making sure he'll be understood.

_This is kind of weird so I guess I'll just get to it. I like you a lot and I want to be honest with you. There's something that I haven't exactly been keeping from you, but I haven't mentioned it. I'm better with words on paper than out loud, so I figured this was the best way to tell you about it._

_I have selective mutism. You can google it and find out a lot of shit, if you want to. Basically I had a shit time growing up and now I have a thing where I can't talk to people out loud much, mostly not at all. I don't know why I was able to talk to you when you came over that day, but I'm really happy I was. I don't feel like a freak when you're around._

_I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this before. I understand if it's too weird and you don't want to see me anymore. I totally get it. Just say the word and I'll leave you alone._

_Love_

_D_

*

Daryl sort of shoves the paper into Rick's hands, the next time they meet under what he's come to think of as their tree.

He can't look as Rick reads it, bites his lip and twists his fingers together and looks at everything but Rick. He's so busy trying to stop himself from panicking that he doesn't notice the slight smile twitching at the corner of the other man's mouth.

Rick lays a hand on his arm, and Daryl looks so fearful when he finally makes eye contact that Rick wants to wrap him up in his arms and keep him safe from the world.

What he does instead, is start moving his hands clumsily.

_Do you want to be my boyfriend?_

Daryl just stares. The grammar's wrong and he's using a formal sign for 'boyfriend', but he's pretty sure he understood what Rick just asked him.

"I kind of figured it out. I'm just a beginner at the signing." Rick explains, nervously. "I dunno if that-"

Daryl answers the question by kissing him. He flings himself at Rick so hard that they end up lying in the dead leaves, wrapped up in each other and not caring if anyone sees.

"I'll take that as a yes." Rick's breathless and grinning widely, looking like all his Christmases have come at once.

"Shut up." Daryl's smile is shyer, his cheeks redder, but it might just be the most beautiful thing Rick's ever seen. 

He's so, so gone.


End file.
